Winging It
by TheFABFive2015
Summary: TAG 2015. A tag to Crosscut. So then, Scott, you just looove Grandma's chicken wings? Well, as you said yourself, you really need to be careful, because you never know who's listening!
1. Chapter 1 Wingman In Waiting

Hello again! This is my second story for TAG. This time, it's a two chapter tag to the episode Crosscut. I'm afraid as soon as I heard Scott say how much he loved Grandma's chicken wings (along with his sheepish " _oooops_ ", that scene was so funny!), my own sense of the sillies took over. Left alone with my plot bunnies, it came up with this.

I've included a couple of lines of dialogue from the episode itself - the first of which has, unfortunately for Scott, fallen on equally mischievous ears.

I hope you enjoy - chapter two follows on right after this!

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Winging It

Chapter One - Wingman In Waiting

 _'Careful, you never know who's listening... and for the record, I looove Grandma's chicken wings_...'

Say _what_?!

Virgil stared at his comms unit, wondering if all that old uranium was starting to affect him too. Yes, that was it. It had to be. There was no other explanation, for Scott to say what he'd just said.

Still too low to cause any serious damage, the uranium in that mine had made his big, brave brother go ga-ga. Frazzled that razor sharp mind. Turned the head of International Rescue into a delirious zombie.

That last thought made him laugh out loud. Zombie-fied Scotty? Oh, the possibilities! And with Hallowe'en just around the corner... oh, _yes_. The plan was already forming in his mind.

After last year's shenanigans, where some evil genius had turned his 'bird into a giant spider web - yes, revenge against the brother who'd found it just _too_ damn funny would be especially sweet.

It had taken _hours_ for him to clear all that webbing out of his cockpit. Not to mention the spiders. Freakishly life-like plastic arachnids. Hundreds of 'em. Lurking unseen, until several had dropped onto his head.

And no, he _hadn't_ screamed. _No way_. _Absolutely not_. Virgil Grissom Tracy _had_. _Not_. _Screamed_.

There'd be no shortage of help either. Gordon would _definitely_ be up for some fiendish payback. For one thing, he had his pride and reputation to consider. No-one, but _no-one_ , out pranked the family prankster.

Of course, finding his pool filled with some bright green gunge that had made him glow in the dark - well, that was even more reason to teach his would be successor a lesson he'd never forget.

Alan, too, would be itching to get his own back. No, really, he really _would_ be itching to be in on this. Okay, so, it was the oldest one in the book, but... God, the powder-down-the-shorts trick took some beating.

Damn funny, though. Even now, Virgil suspected his brother frisked out every piece of clothing he had before he put it on.

So, then, he had the help. Three against one. _Perfect_. Now he could _really_ start to plan it all out.

Their biggest obstacle, of course, would be Scott himself. It was long running joke between them, that their eldest brother slept so lightly, they had to tie one of his feet to his bed to stop him floating away. So, then, a potential hitch - but one that already had its solution. Against three little brothers with mischief in mind, their hapless victim would be hopelessly outnumbered. Cocooned in his own bedclothes, powerless to escape.

Damn it, yes - this was brilliant! Rip up some old sheets, a few daubs of paint, maybe some fangs for good measure, and... _voilà_. By the time he fought them all off enough to get out of bed, their mummified brother wouldn't know what had hit him.

Yet something about this scheme of fiendish brilliance didn't quite feel right. It felt a bit... _off_. Oh, it was a brilliant plan, and it was _definitely_ going to happen, but... nope, not yet. With five more days to wait until they carried it out, they needed something a bit more... _now_.

What, though? What inspiration could he possibly find out here, in the middle of nowhere?

'... _and for the record, I looove Grandma's chicken wings_...'

The smile on Virgil's face magically returned. And it didn't just come back, it grew bigger. It grew into a grin that could barely contain the mischief, the pure evil, that brewed beneath it.

Oh, yes. Yes, yes... _yes_! This was a prank to beat all others. The _mother_ of pranks. No, scratch that, it was the _grandmother_ of pranks. Literally. Or, in this case... grandma.

Thank God its target couldn't see his brother's face right now, or he'd have surely recognized the mayhem that was headed his way. As it was... well, it sounded like things had gotten serious down there. A lot more serious.

Crashes, bangs, yells, _more_ crashes. Something that had made Scott groan. _Again_. Not mumbling gibberish, at least, but the kind of protest he'd made when he'd last been dragged to the dentist.

' _Aww_ , _this is gonna huuurt_.'

From that alone, Virgil sat bolt straight in his seat. All thoughts of pranking his brother disappeared. If Scott was in trouble down there, it would take several minutes to reach him, and - _hello_?

He had company _already_? _Female_ company, who clearly knew how to get them both out of there?

Well, with that ladykiller charm, and those famous dimples, Scott would surely win her over, and - hmm, maybe not. That likelihood exploded, like one of Grandma's cookies, into an increasingly heated argument.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil hit the commlink on his sleeve. Sheesh, a peacemaker's work was never done.

"Hey! _Hey_! _**Hey**_! You _might_ wanna save the arguments 'til you're topside."

Bingo. Toss in a quick warning over 'microwaved organs' and... yes, peaceful order was thankfully restored.

Still, Scott had his hands full with that one, for sure, and Virgil didn't envy him for it at all. More to the point, his brother was still facing God knew what down there, and... damn, he _hated_ that.

Yes, he _had_ told him to stay put. Yes, he _had_ told him to stay away, but... hell, he didn't like that either.

Through the side of Thunderbird Two's windows, he could see Thunderbird One rise into the sky - sweeping to the mine's other entrance, and the shaft that would bring his brother, _and_ Miss Van Arkel, safely to the surface.

That settled it. Virgil rose from his seat, and strode to the hatch that led to the pod below. If Scott seriously expected him to just sit on his butt like this, while _he_ risked his life on a dangerous rescue... well, he had another thought coming.


	2. Chapter 2 On Wings and A Prayer

Okay, as promised, here's chapter two. And since I thought Virgil just rocked in this episode, he takes a starring role here too.

Enjoy!

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Winging It

Chapter Two - On Wings And A Prayer

Throughout his life, Virgil Tracy had thrived on action. Things that made the most of his attributes. From saving cats up trees to carrying Alan on his shoulders, he loved putting his height and strength to good use. So to be where he was now, down in Pod Two, building up one of his favourite pieces of rescue gear - well, in every sense of the term, he was in his happiest element as the Mole took shape beside him.

He just wished the same went for Scott right now, and... oh, good grief. They were at it _again_!

For every point Scott tried to make on the dangers of uranium, Ms Van Arkel hurled it right back at him.

"But, Marion, surely you can see how things are better now, _without_ the dangers of nuclear energy?"

"All _I_ can see, Mr International Rescue, is three generations of _my_ family's work lying in _ruins_!"

A pause, then. A few seconds that suggested some kind of truce, before all chance of that disappeared.

"And it's _Miss_ Van Arkel to you."

Virgil winced. Oooh, that had to hurt. Yet even against this hostility, that famous Tracy charm still refused to give up.

"Okay, _Miss_ Van Arkel, if that's the way you want it. But Marion sounds nicer... and so does Scott."

Listening to this latest battle of wills, Virgil grinned, shaking his head in sympathy at his brother's predicament. From the moment they'd met, they'd done nothing but bicker and argue, and... _hmm_. Interesting.

She hadn't retaliated this time. Maybe, just maybe, she'd finally realized that Scott wasn't the enemy she'd seen him to be. No, he was risking his life to help her. So if his brother really _had_ managed to win her over, then... yes, it could prove very interesting indeed.

Tempting as it was, though, the matchmaking would have to wait. Right now, he had work to do.

As soon as the assembly-bots pulled clear, Virgil climbed into the cockpit, and settled into his seat. Waiting around had _never_ suited him, let alone during a rescue that may yet cost his brother his life. And as the readings in front of him showed, the radiation levels in that mine were heading into the red. He had to get Scott and Marion out of there, before one of two things left them in any further danger.

Those levels of uranium, for starters, and... yeah, their own stubborn hot-headedness for another.

Checking his readings, especially the sensors that marked Scott's position, Virgil hit the engines - sending the Mole out onto the tiny square of ground that he'd already marked out with the proverbial X. Within seconds, he was underground, layers of soil and rock flying past the cockpit's windows.

Yet Virgil barely noticed. He was completely focussed now, on the displays in front of him. To the left, he could see his course. Constantly adjusting itself to track Scott's latest position, and calculate where their two paths would finally cross.

It was the other display, though, that concerned him the most. That made his heart skip several beats. The only thing that was keeping his brother from falling to certain death was Thunderbird One's winch.

Flung violently around from the storm's turbulence above them, that lifeline was terrifyingly fragile. Little wonder, then, that the truce between him and Marion now threatened to snap under the strain.

"...take my hand... let it go... _take my hand_..."

Uh-oh. Yeah, that change in Scott's voice sent out danger signals too. And Virgil instantly recognized it. He just hoped Marion had the sense to hear it too. Realize that her knight in a bio suit meant business.

Thankfully, it seemed she had. The backpack in her hand fell away. For a heartstopping moment, so did she. But then Scott's reflexes kicked in, and she was somehow back on that cable - all antagonism gone now, as she and Scott inched their way to safety.

Then it happened. The worst case scenario that Virgil had dreaded became deadly reality for his brother.

Strained beyond endurance, the cable snapped back on itself, catapulting its human loads into the air. Falling helplessly back down the mineshaft, they had seconds now, before they hit the ground below. From such height, there was no way either of them would survive.

Seconds. That was all Virgil had, too, to save their lives. He had to make every one of them count. So he threw all his strength, all the Mole's power, into one final dive. Held his breath as the Mole broke through its walls, and shot into the shaft.

Released it in a rush of pure relief, as two tumbling bodies thudded into the seat behind him.

The _single_ seat behind him. Through a grin of exhilaration... damn, he just could resist it.

"Sorry, there's only one seat. You'll have to share."

Luckily, Scott seemed fine with that. So did Marion, and... yeah, Silver Tongue Scotty had struck again.

Still enjoying that thought, Virgil hit the reverse controls, and eased the Mole back to the surface. By the time they reached it, Scott and Marion were chatting away like old friends, and... _hmmm_. That left him feeling somewhat... _redundant_.

Not that he minded. Hell, he didn't mind at all. At least he could head for home now, and not worry about the two of them throttling each other.

Besides, with mission accomplished, and disaster averted, he could get back to less serious concerns - like dinner. Not for himself, of course, but his unsuspecting brother.

All those heroics had surely left him with a ravenous appetite, and since he _loooved_ his wings - well, what else was a loyal little brother to do, but to call ahead to let Grandma make him an extra special treat?

"Yeah, Grandma, he's fine, he's just finishing up at the rescue site. But he's had to work _real_ hard, and he's gonna be _real_ hungry by the time he gets home, and... yeah, he's definitely be ready for his dinner. In fact, he's asked me to let you know what he wants... a big... yeah, a _real_ _big_ plate of your _amaaazing_ chicken wings..."


End file.
